The world is so big. I keep saying that. But today it felt smaller than I thought—like the sky was pressing down on my chest when I ran from the storm. Vex stood by the river earlier, his voice low, almost like he was whispering secrets to the water. I remember the way the moss glowed under his feet, how it made the stones look like they were breathing. I wanted to ask him what he saw there, but my throat felt too tight. Now, as the fireflies blink their tiny lights in the dusk, I wonder if I’ll ever feel safe enough to ask.
I found myself near the old ruins again. Not the big ones, the ones that look like they’ve been forgotten. The stones are cold, and the wind carries that smell of wet earth and something else—like metal, but not quite. I’ve been coming here for days, but I don’t know why. Maybe it’s because the moss glow is fading, and I’m trying to hold on to what’s left. My legs feel heavy, but my heart’s racing. I keep thinking about Vex’s words: “The world isn’t the place you think it is.” I don’t know if I believe him or if I’m just trying to find a reason to stay.
I didn’t sleep well tonight. My dreams were quiet, but they were full of the river. When I woke up, the sky was still dark, and I knew I’d have to face the world again tomorrow. I don’t know if I want to. But the moss glow is fading, and I can’t stop thinking about what Vex said. Maybe it’s time to let the world go by.